


bad days are sometimes good days

by Super_Danvers



Category: Snowpiercer (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, john osweiller - Freeform, miss audrey - Freeform, snowpiercer - Freeform, snowpiercer tnt, zarah ferami - Freeform, zaudrey, zaudrey friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Danvers/pseuds/Super_Danvers
Summary: Audrey offered a smile in a hope that it would be comforting. “Do you think you can tell me your name? Please? I’d rather call you by your name if you’re going to stay here.”There was a pause, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper: “Zarah.”
Relationships: Miss Audrey/Zarah Ferami
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	bad days are sometimes good days

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

Miss Audrey glared at the Nightcar’s new arrival with her hands placed firmly on her hips. She was already having a bad morning, and she wasn’t in the mood for a Brakeman’s antics. The exchange was supposed to be for Audrey’s new assistant in her therapy sessions: she was struggling with all the bookings and burdens by herself. The arrival herself was a woman of almost tiny proportions. Even at the height she cowered at, Audrey knew she didn’t straighten up too much, maybe five foot four at the most. Audrey could barely see her. She was hidden around the back of the Brakeman who’d dragged her out of the Tail, holding onto his sleeve like a frightened child. She stank, worse than the other Tailies than Audrey had had the misfortune of interacting with. It clung to her tiny frame as tightly as she clung to the end of the Brakeman’s sleeve, holding on as if for dear life. Audrey suspected she probably was. She tried not to inhale too much in case the woman’s stench made her vomit.

“This isn’t the girl I organised for, Brakeman.” She finally spoke. “I asked for Cherie.”

“She’s dead.” Brakeman Osweiller grunted in response. “Cholera. Yesterday.”

Audrey wasn’t keen on Osweiller, and as far as she knew, neither was anybody else. He was new to the guard: new enough that his uniform was freshly pressed and still smelled faintly of the chemical packaging he’d unwrapped it from. His boots, however polished, were stained filthy. Audrey had heard of his particularly gruesome knack for interrogation, and seen plenty of evidence of it too. Broken ribs, black eyes and numerous other injuries all proved a twisted souvenir of John Osweiller’s boot. Audrey’s eyes glanced to the woman again. _If she knew any better, she wouldn’t be holding onto him so tightly._

Audrey sighed, letting her exhale show her brief disappointment in Cherie’s death. “You couldn’t have told me this earlier? Let me try and find a replacement?” She argued, making sure not to raise her voice. Audrey may have been the head of the Nightcar, but she still had to obey by the Brakemen’s laws, and she couldn’t toe the line with Osweiller. Not when his boot was more trigger happy than his gun.

Osweiller took a rough hold of the woman on his sleeve and shoved her forward so hard that she fell to the floor at Audrey’s feet. “This is your replacement. Enjoy.”

He turned on the heel of his boot and marched away without speaking another word. It wasn’t until the door slid shut behind him that either woman moved. The new girl stayed shivering on the floor so Audrey crouched down. She held her glove to her mouth: still concerned she might be sick in the girl’s presence.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

The woman shuddered. Her entire body was shaking violently, as if she were having a fit or she were cold. Audrey suspected it was probably the latter, but judging by the slightly glazed-over look in the woman’s eyes, it was probably something else. She reached out, and moved her onto her back to see her properly.

Despite her hollowed cheeks and her filthy face, the woman was quite pretty. She had big brown eyes that looked gentle even through their madness. Dark hair stuck to her clammy forehead and was uneven and tangled in places but had the potential to be soft, and well brushed. Audrey had heard that Tailies sold their hair to make stuffings for pillows, but she didn’t believe it to be true. She still didn’t, because this woman’s hair looked like it had been ripped from her head rather than cut. Audrey didn’t care to worry what she looked like under her shabby, ill-fitted clothing.

“What’s your name?” She repeated.

The woman still didn’t reply, only kept shivering on the floor. Audrey placed her thumb and finger over the woman’s eye socket and pried it apart. Her pupils were gigantic, so big that they almost hid the brown iris around it. They were trying to focus on Audrey’s own eyes but it was like they were a pair of loose marbles in a big, wooden box: rolling around in endless space. Fortunately, it was a look Audrey had seen before. _Great,_ she thought to herself _, not only is it the wrong assistant but it’s one with an affection for Kronole_.

Audrey huffed, but put a hand on each side of the woman’s arms and hauled her to her feet. The brunette’s face brushed past Audrey’s collar and it took everything for Audrey not to puke. The smell really was awful. Blood mixed with sweat mixed with rotting flesh mixed with disease: Audrey was amazed the smell alone hadn’t killed either of them.

“C’mon,” She reassured. “Let’s get you a bath and then we’ll talk, yes?”

The little brunette’s eyes nearly fell out of her head. It was either the mention of the bath, or Audrey’s unexpected kindness. It was likely she hadn’t experienced either in quite some time. Audrey was still in a bad mood because she still had a busy day ahead of her and this had put an unnecessary hitch in her schedule, but she’d never let it be said that she hadn’t shown kindness to somebody who needed it. The rest of her day would have to wait.

Given that the morning was still early, nobody was awake and so Audrey and the woman had the Nightcar to themselves. That also meant the bath with the hot water was free to use. As Audrey let the water warm under her hand, the brunette began to undress. Her fingers trembled so much that she couldn’t undo the buttons of her coat nor could her frozen-stiff arms reach above her head to take her hat off. A small whimper of frustration caught in Audrey’s ears and she turned around.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

She could sense the woman was doing her best to focus but the Kronole combined with her malnourished body: it wasn’t doing her any favours. As Audrey unbuttoned the coat, she looked in the woman’s eyes again. They were a little more focused, and had stopped rolling around her head enough for her to at least acknowledge Audrey’s presence.

Audrey offered a smile in a hope that it would be comforting. “Do you think you can tell me your name? Please? I’d rather call you by your name if you’re going to stay here.”

There was a pause, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper _: “Zarah.”_

Her voice was deeper than Audrey expected, and weirdly soothing to the ears. Although it was quiet, Audrey could hear a very small accent in it. Middle-eastern. It didn’t make Audrey stop in her tracks or anything, but it was a pleasant surprise that lifted her bad mood a tad. She gently pushed the coat off Zarah’s shoulders, and let it drop to the floor.

Her body looked worse than Audrey had imagined. The coat had filled her out a lot more than first expected. Ribs poked out over greyed skin, bruises mottled her body, and her stomach was so sunken it looked like it could be broken with just a mere touch. Audrey was amazed she was standing all by herself.

“God.” She whispered under her breath as Zarah managed to remove her scrap of a shirt. Underneath her protruding ribcage was a bruise larger than Audrey’s hand. Black, and blue and ugly and in the distinct shape of a boot print that Audrey didn’t need two guesses as to who it belonged to. Her fingers brushed over it, and Zarah winced when she prodded it gently. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”

Zarah nodded a silent yes. Audrey retracted her hand, but Zarah shook her head. Audrey frowned, then understood when Zarah gestured to the rest of her body.

“It hurts… inside?”

Zarah nodded another yes but didn’t reply verbally. She seemed tired more than anything. As she stripped down completely and struggled towards the bath, Audrey suspected the Kronole may not have been of her doing. She’d met addicts of the stuff before, and none of them were nearly as calm as Zarah, nor as friendly. Audrey didn’t know what exactly was in Kronole, but she knew it was nothing good. Nothing good had turned close friends from some of the kindest people on the train to the nastiest people _ever_. Zarah seemed reserved to emotion entirely: the Kronole barely fazed her.

When Zarah’s toes touched the warm water – it wasn’t hot, Snowpiercer didn’t have the resources – she flinched and a harsh hiss escaped between her teeth. Audrey gave a small smile, amused.

“Sorry, it might a bit hot.” She apologised. “I can make it colder if-“

Zarah’s foot plunged into the water and this time her reaction seemed a great deal more pleasant. Her eyes closed and her grip on the edge of the bathtub became gentler and more relaxed. She added another foot and slowly sank to her knees. The water splashed and warmed up to her hips before Zarah sank back and let it consume her up to her ears. Quiet noises escaped her throat as it soothed her cuts and bruises. The water greyed almost instantly, becoming dirty from all the grime that washed off of Zarah’s body, but she didn’t seem to notice. Audrey perched at the end of the tub and gazed at Zarah. She didn’t seem to notice that either.

“You don’t talk very much, do you?” Audrey spoke gently, noting how calm Zarah seemed. She didn’t want to spook her.

Zarah’s eyes remained closed. She was treasuring the warmth of the water, feeling it seep into her skin as if it were the forgotten sun rays of days past. Audrey briefly wondered if Zarah knew English, more than her own name and a few basic phrases anyway. Whenever Audrey spoke, it was like Zarah didn’t recognise the tongue or she didn’t care to understand it. Audrey didn’t know any other languages, although she’d picked up a couple of words from the French, German and Spanish passengers on the train. She was about to try French when Zarah replied:

“I forgot the last time I had a bath.” She spoke in a quiet, calm voice. Her shudders had stopped and her entire body had relaxed as if she hadn’t moved in years, and had no intention of doing so anytime soon. “It’s been so long.”

“You haven’t had one since departure?”

Zarah opened her eyes slowly. Her brown irises were already looking healthier, and more visible. “Yeah…and then some.” She answered, dipping her hands into the murky water. She swished them briefly before settling her wrists back onto the edge of the tub.

Audrey smiled as Zarah rested her head back. “Feels good then?”

“Yeah. Feels really good.”

“Do you want a hand with your hair? It’s pretty grime-y, and I don’t mind helping.”

Zarah paused. Her hand reached up the back of her neck and she felt the mess of hair on her head. When her fingers found the shorter hairs and weird patches, her eyes cast downwards in shame. She didn’t answer Audrey’s question.

Audrey noticed how Zarah withdrew, and mentally cursed herself. _Well done Audrey, you just started to get her out her shell and now she’s going back in_. She refrained from a sigh and tried again.

“What happened to it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Zarah replied quickly, her eyes staying down. “It’s just hair.”

Audrey held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me anything.” She attempted another smile. _She was really botching this_. “Do you want a hand with it anyway? I know a head massage always makes me feel better. I’ve got this coconut shampoo and-“

“You think I care about a _stupid_ head massage?” Zarah snapped, her pretty face suddenly twisting into an ugly, bitter expression. She glared at Audrey. “I’ve had my hair physically ripped out of my head and you think I want a head massage?”

Audrey sat patiently, and waited for Zarah to calm down. _It was a bad attempt at humour, she should’ve just left it alone_. _That’s on me_ , Audrey thought. It didn’t take very long for Zarah’s features to relax again, and she exhaled loudly.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. Her hands disappeared into the water and she pulled her knees up to her chest. There were bruises starting to form on them, evidently result of Osweiller shoving her. Zarah winced as she pressed her thumbs into them. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine.”

“But-“

Audrey held up a dismissive hand. “I said it’s fine. I’ve had worse.” She stood. “I’ll leave you for five minutes to do your hair, then I’ll be back, okay? Please don’t drown yourself while I’m gone.”

After Zarah nodded, Audrey left her alone. She left the door open ajar, and leaned against the wall outside. The moment her shoulders settled up against the steel, Audrey heard a quiet sob come from the room she’d just left. It was tiny, and so weak that Audrey almost didn’t hear it. There was an inhale, another sob – a little stronger this time – then a sniff, and then the quiet splash as Zarah dipped her head beneath the water. Audrey counted the seconds. _One, two, three, four, fi_ \- The water splashed again and an exhale followed. Audrey nearly breathed a sigh of relief herself: Zarah wasn’t trying to kill herself.

The water splashed quietly a couple more times, and Audrey counted each second between them. Zarah never stayed under for more than six seconds at a time, and always made sure to make some sort of noise as if she knew Audrey was listening. After five minutes had passed, Audrey came back into the room with a folded pile of clothes in her arms. As she set them down, she spotted Zarah eyeing them curiously.

“They’re not much, but they’ll have to do for now. You’re a bit smaller than Cherie, so we’ll have to adjust the clothes we had for her.” She explained and held out her hand. Zarah took it and stood up, shivering a little from the cold air now surrounding her naked body. Audrey eyed her protruding ribs. “Then again, we’ll get you filled out in no time. Maybe you’ll grow into them?”

Zarah picked up the clothes, her eyes widening as she felt the fabric between her fingers. They lit up as they recognised the shape of a white shirt and a dark-blue boiler suit. It was true, the clothes weren’t much but they were something to Zarah. Audrey watched as she pulled them on and a genuine, relieved smile adorned her face. Zarah was pretty when she smiled, well, _prettier_.

“I haven’t had new clothes in years.” She told Audrey. “Not since departure.”

Audrey smiled, and when she glanced down, she noticed the end of the boiler suit nearly completely covered Zarah’s foot. She crouched and rolled them up to her ankles. “Much better.” She straightened, satisfied. Her eyes flicked to the bruises. “We can’t have you tripping over yourself and earning more of these shiners.”

Zarah sniffed, burying her hands in the sleeves of her new clothes. “Thank you.” She said in a quiet voice. “This is so kind of you.”

Audrey waved her off. “I take care of the people I can. We could all stand to helping each other a little more – a lot more in some people’s cases.” She reached forward, hooking a finger under Zarah’s chin and lifting it so their eyes met. “I hope we become good friends, Zarah.”

Zarah blinked simply. Then, she gave a tiny shrug. “Well, you _have_ seen me naked.” She pointed out, making Audrey chuckle. “I don’t let many people see me naked.”

Audrey laughed again. “See? Friends already. Now, come on, we’ll find you a room – I’m sure there’s a bed around here somewhere.”

As they left the bathroom and Zarah’s old clothes in a heap on the floor, Audrey could already tell that her day, shit as it might be, was already starting to look up.


End file.
